Places I Will Always Go
by gostlcards
Summary: Emma refuses to accept that the last 12 years with her son has been a lie. Luckily, the Sheriff of the town where she chases the crazy hooked man to in pursuit of her son is a pretty reasonable guy...despite the delusion that they're all fairytale characters. There be fluff. T for a few curse words.


AN: not mine. this is incredibly fluff n stuff, and highly unlikely, but ya know. hellatus. i regret nothing. title derived from The Head and the Heart's "Down in the Valley"

* * *

Henry had always been uneasily talented at slipping out of the high rise condo where he lived with his mother in the heart of New York City. She had believed she would have had until he was at least further into his teen years, but at 12, he was more mischievous than she would've liked. Because of his otherwise obedient ways, she was fine with it since he stuck mostly to the building where they lived, or at most the block. When he slipped out on this night, his sights were set on much further. She didn't even hear him leave.

He had a pass for the train, so the trip was brief to the harbor, the place where the leather clad man had said he would wait for them. Henry approached slower with each step, the absence of a giant ship making him nervous, doubting his decision. What was/ he seriously thinking? Fairy tale worlds, magic...family? That he, and his mom, were royalty, the only ones to save these people? He wasn't a kid anymore, he shouldn't be/ this gullible. Despite berating himself, he reached the edge of the dock and swallowed hard, his heart racing. "Mr. Jones?"

Whatever hint of genuine belief he had left was not enough to keep him from still being shocked. He jumped, tripping over his feet, landing on the seat of his pants with a startled cry.

The captain's expression creased for a moment, then transformed into something more amused. "Ah, young lad. I should've known it would be you."

"Henry. My name is Henry."

The hooked man nodded, jogging down what should've probably been stairs, but there was nothing that appeared. He hopped onto the dock with a solid noise and started to saunter over. "Aye, you're right. My apologies, young highness."

Henry's felt his curiosity pique once more at the title. "That's what you said earlier. To my mom."

Killian grinned because that was kind of his angle, should Emma be difficult to convince. He squatted, bringing himself eye level to the boy. "So you believe me, eh? Fairy tales, knights and witches not too much for you?"

Henry scowled at the prodding. "If you're gonna make fun of me, forget it."

"Aye, boy, come on back here." He raised his voice only a little as Henry retreated with a huff, and his tone was varied-humor, sadness...almost, even, a bit of desperation. "I was just having a bit of fun with you. You would've rolled your eyes at me for it before."

The hair on his neck prickled. _Before_. It felt strange when he thought on it for a few seconds, trying to figure out what the man meant. He had seen the same type of confusion in his mother's expression for only a few seconds before she finally told the man to get the hell out of their building or else she was calling the cops.

There was something the man had said, questions he had pressed that had made him think more on what had at first sounded ridiculous. Jones had grabbed his mother's hand, squeezing it hard before she snatched it away and slapped him.

_"I was with you, when you got that scar."_

_She snorted, rolling her eyes as she rested on her back foot with her hands at her hips. The pirate had seemed speechless for a moment, staring at her stance almost with a smile, but had shaken his head. Henry had wondered what was so funny; he couldn't know how much his mother had looked like her father in that moment._

_"That's funny, I don't remember you being here for Thanksgiving 2008."_

_"Is it though? Tell me Princess," He sniped. "This holiday, was it a large feast with friends, or just you and the boy? Tell me some of the details, if you can."_

Neither had had any answers. And it had bothered Henry ever since.

There was a fog where details of the memory should've been, of pies and parades, of friends and fellowship; it hadn't been that long ago. He had a vague recollection of his mother cutting her hand, of a brief trip to the hospital, of leftover turkey days after that left him sick, but the specific memory seemed lost to him. And it scared him just a bit.

So he had packed his sports bag on his back, slipped out the window and had traveled to the docks to meet up with a complete stranger, his invisible boat and crazy tales of adventures and fairy tales. It felt as if sanity reclaimed him suddenly, his posture stiffening, fingers curling into fists. He is beginning to seriously considered turning and dashing home as fast as he can.

"I can't come with you. My mom will be furious. She'll skin me alive."

Hook laughed. "She'll skin _me_ alive. Her, and a few others back in town, I promise you that. _Especially_ Neal." He muttered the last part to himself, pressing his lips together. "I know you have no reason to trust me, Henry. But do you really think you'd have come all the way out here, if somewhere inside of you, you didn't believe it were true?"

It was exactly what a person trying to spirit him away would say, but he found himself trusting the man at his word. Instincts were important; even if he was only 12, he knew that much. The man was clad in leather, a hook for a hand, and he had crouched to his level to speak with him so he held eye contact, but it wasn't even all of that.

He knew where the step was on the ship, even though he couldn't see it anymore. His leg remembered the feel of the wood creaking beneath his weight, his nose somehow remembered the smell of mahogany and sea water. And he knew that if-_when_-he stepped onto them, he wouldn't fall into the bay. So denying his head, and fulfilling the pull of his heart, he shrugged his pack high onto his shoulders and sighed, looking up at Killian decidedly. The man grinned, clapping his hands together with a holler.

"Oh, but I know you'll be having one of those fancy phones. You'll be calling your mother soon, to let her know where we've headed. She's going to need to meet us there."

* * *

The fury of Hurricane Emma that made landfall in Storybrooke a few days later was enough to make anyone take cover. She went right past Henry and straight for Hook, punching him so hard in the face he fell backward off his heels, clutching at his nose.

"I may have very much deserved that."

"You're goddamn right you did, what the hell is your problem?" She spun away from him quickly enough, bending down to talk to Henry face to face. She grabbed at the sides of face, eyes scanning him wildly, inspecting him. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm okay, Mom, I'm okay. He didn't make me get on the boat. I made him bring me."

"It's a _ship_..."

"You shut your mouth!" She snapped sharply at the pirate before she redirected her effort to her son. Her brows creased, sides of her mouth curving down. "But...but why?"

"Because...they need our help."

Her face softened, her heart almost breaking; he was the only person who had ever had this affect on her. "Oh baby, I know the story is exciting, but it's not even possible..."

"Regardless, we still have a problem, and we know you're our best chance."

She straightened and turned to face the new voice who had stepped in between her and the hooked man, ready to go off on him, but found herself speechless when she saw him. The man wearing the gun vest was standing tall, hands on his hips, shoulders pulled back with his head held high, hair atop perfectly coiffed._ Like a goddamned Disney prince_, she thought to herself, chuckling internally. His expression almost seemed to fall a bit when she looked at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she sized him up; the small smile was back before it could fully leave, though, and she eyed him warily.

"And you are? Cause if you think you're protecting him from me after he carted my kid all the way up here on a _boat_, you're out of your mind."

He chuckled at her tone, bowing his head for a moment. "I have no such intention of keeping you from protecting your son. But as the sheriff here in Storybrooke, I can promise he will be in my custody until your time here in town is finished." He extended his hand, stepping toward her. "David Nolan."

She took it warily, and found his grip comfortable, the touch almost familiar, but that only made her more suspicious and she brushed it off in her mind. Something like disappointment seemed to pass across his face when she released it and stepped back, still regarding him uneasily; he pressed his lips together in a line, the smile falling.

"Emma Swan." _Why did her voice tremble?_

"I am familiar."

It was starting to unnerve her, how his voice felt like a warm blanket on a winter's night. Her eyes narrowed.

"How is that, again? Cause I'm pretty sure I've never heard of any of you."

"I can probably answer that."

Her entire body visibly tightened up and the Sheriff's heart plummeted. There was nothing more that he wanted to do at that moment than to move behind her and stand close to help her with what was about to happen, but he knew, with a twist in his gut, that this was something she had to handle on her own.

He also knew that she could survive unlike any one he had ever known-lord knows she'd had the experience.

When Neal had suggested it, when others had agreed, David had fought back with everything he had. She was happy, and safe, with Henry, with a life/ that didn't involve this mess; she had everything he had ever wanted for their family. She had _peace_. Dragging her back into this was almost an even greater pain than that of his wife being separated from him. Because now they were going to complicate her life all over again. Giving away Henry had been her biggest regret, and they were introducing the risk of making it her reality once more.

She was stiff when she turned to face Neal, who shifted in front of her, toes pointed inward, shoulders slumped with his hands in his pockets. She trembled a little, stepping back, holding her hands up in front of her body as if to ward him away. "Neal?"

"It's all true, Em. Everything he said. You used to live here. You, and Henry. I was here with you."

She sidestepped over to Henry, pushing him behind her, although it did little to keep the boy from craning his neck to take in the scene before him. "Henry and I live in a condo in the City. We've been there since he was 5. We lived in Boston before that. We've never even been to Maine."

His expression was pitiful. "I'm sorry, Em."

"Who is he?" Henry was insistent, and David reached for him out of habit as squeezed around Emma to get a closer look at Neal, who looked about ready to cave into himself about this point. Neal's gaze trailed from Emma, to Henry, and back to Emma. It terrified her a little to realize that Henry wasn't at all a mystery to him.

"I know it's hard..." He began, but she grabbed Henry's shoulder, jerking him back toward her quickly despite his loud objection.

"You don't know shit." She barked at her ex. "You left us. Left _me_. He is all I have, and now you're going to tell me to believe a crazy man with a hook for a hand? One that is trying to tell me that it's not real?" She shook her head with a harsh laugh, tears burning at her lids. "It's _ludicrous_."

David couldn't take it anymore. "Enough."

Everyone turned to face him, the rough tone commanding attention.

Neal sighed, frowning. "David..."

"I said, that's _enough._" And this time, his tone conveyed a great warning, and Emma's eyes widened to see how Neal straightened and backed down. "Ms. Swan, there's a bed and breakfast down the street, near Granny's diner. I do understand your concern for your son..."

"Do you? Do you have children, Sheriff Nolan?"

The air was still, with no one around them making a sound. He didn't hesitate or shy away, but made direct eye contact, and could not keep from offering a soft, wistful smile. "I do. One of them a daughter, older than I'd like. So I understand the strong push of a willful offspring. And I understand the fear. And I understand, fully, if you get in your yellow bug and drive far away. But, since you are here, Ms. Swan; since you are so well renowned for your work, I beg of you to help us. My wife and her stepmother are...they've been taken. And we need your help to get them back."

There was something about the way he spoke, vulnerable and pained, that caused her chest to ache just a bit at the sincerity of his expression, so she sighed, glancing between Henry and Neal, and then back at the Sheriff.

"Tomorrow morning, I'll be at your office. We can discuss things more then. I'll try and do what I can, Sheriff. For a little while, at least."

It was as if a fire had been put out. Those standing and watching visibly relaxed-even seemed to smile-and dispersed, as Emma took her son around the shoulder and looked up at Neal. "You should come too. I think we have some things to talk about."

Neal swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "That we do."

* * *

Emma wandered around the police station with general curiosity, inspecting the cells and the sights out the windows. She hooked her thumbs around the belt loops on the back of her jeans, resting against one of the vacant desks, shrugging her shoulders so her red leather jacket loosened on her torso.

"Look Sheriff, I want to help, I really do, but if this has been too much for you to handle, it may need to be elevated to a state matter. You say they've been taken, that you have no idea how to find them, no leads...I'm not sure what you think I can do."

"What can I say, I've heard you're a special talent. And I'm a believer."

She huffed out a half laugh, rolling narrowed eyes. "Mm-hmm. And it has nothing to do with Mr. Jones' crazy stories? Something about witches and royalty?"

He laughed. "I think Hook would've told you about anything to get you here, as we asked him to retrieve you."

She traced her teeth with her tongue as she kept her lips tightly closed, sucking on them gently as she bided her patience. "That wasn't really an answer. Tell me, really; what's your take on all the fairytale crazy that Pirate and Neal were spouting? Almost everyone we've run into...hell, Granny at the diner was calling her waitress Red and that was really weird." She shifted, eyeing him at his desk from where she leaned. "But you seem to avoid the subject at every turn."

"If it isn't true, then why is it so important?"

"Because your vagrant has my son all twisted up in this," She retorted, a little too defensive. "I don't want you whipping him up and exciting him when there's nothing to be excited about. Neal was certainly a surprise," She shifted uncomfortably as the Sheriff's eyes grew soft. Her gaze found the linoleum as she continued. "But that's as complicated as this is going to get. He's a good kid, Sheriff. A good head on his shoulders. I don't want him getting these crazy ideas..." She swept a foot back and forth in front of her, as if nervous, then locked it up quickly. She squared her shoulders and glared at the Sheriff, defensive once more. "He's coming home with me."

"That is never going to be in question, Ms. Swan. I'll personally make sure of it." He reassured firmly. "As for this...'fairytale' nonsense, you've been fairly clear on your opinion of that. Why waste valuable time trying to convince you otherwise?" He tapped his pen on the desk, expression caustic. It drew a chuckle from the displaced bonds-person.

"Good point...but considering you seem to lend some credence to it. In this farfetched existence. Were we...friends?"

He got very quiet at that, seeming to take a moment, and she felt immediately contrite by her choice of words. When he responded, soft and almost melancholy, something welled up deep inside her. "I'd like to think we were getting there."

"So you do believe in all the fairytale stuff."

"It doesn't matter what I believe, Emma, not about that. About you though..." He leaned forward, forearms on the table. "My wife and her stepmother are the prisoners of a woman with a grudge, and I have to find a way to get to them."

"Well, if you're insistent on ignoring my suggestion to bring in the state, I say we start by going and talking to people who may know something, although I would expect you've already started doing that."

"I have," He smiled gently. "But, something tells me your intuition may serve better. How about we start off down at the docks, and move into town from there? If you don't mind?"

She nodded, offering a tight smile. "Henry is with Neal for the day, so that will work out well. You guys have a coffee place around here or something?"

"Granny's." David offered, pulling his legs from where they were propped up on his desk. "How are you doing with that? I'd imagine it's difficult."

"Somewhat." She looked at him, seeming slightly annoyed. "And very personal."

He reddened.. "Of course, I apologize."

An uncomfortable silence hung over them while they headed towards the docks. He would ask her incidental questions about New York, pointing out significant shops off the main drag and mentioning his own theories, but it was fairly obvious that he was dancing around anything he thought may irritate her. He couldn't get a hold of where she was at, mentally or emotionally. Emma being open to the reality of her origins was difficult enough. An wholly obstinate Emma was someone he had no idea how to maneuver.

He pulled over near the wharf, shoving his truck into park. Emma sighed, turning a little to him.

"Look, i'm not all...sharey, with anyone. It's just been me and Henry for a really long time. I don't mean to be so guarded."

"You don't have to apologize to me, Emma." He replied, a gentle smile on his face.

"You were just being polite. So yeah, I kind of do." She unbuckled her belt, shifting up in the seat to let herself out of the car. He followed, amused as he watched her trip over her words, trying to figure herself out like a baby duck learning how to swim. "Henry has known about Neal for awhile. Not his name, or really detailed things, but that he left before he was born and that i've never really tried to contact him. I didn't want to have regrets about lying to him."

"That seems like something you'd do."

"You keep talking like that. Like you know me."

"Freaking you out a bit?"

She smirked at him as they headed toward the cannery. "I'll let you know."

They spent a little over an hour in the factory, talking with the manager and the workers on the line before heading back to the truck. The Cannery boss had been really easy going, friendly and warm, although she did notice how he squeezed the Sheriff's shoulder before they left, muttering something she couldn't hear. David had merely nodded, shrugged and followed her out of the building.

"Did you get anything?"

"I don't think they know anything about the abduction, if you that's what you mean." She sighed, hands on her hips. "Although the unusual sightings of a woman wearing all black could mean you have a cat burglar or something on your hands."

"Yeah, I figured that may be something we had to deal with."

"One thing at a time, right? Especially with just you holding down the fort?" She started walking toward the truck, running a hand through her hair with a sigh. She wasn't a fan of goose chases, or no leads, but she also had a hard time saying no to a challenge.

"True.I do have an opening for a deputy."

She laughed. "If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, you really haven't list-"

"EMMA!" David's voice was a roar, urgent and hoarse, and she yanked her head up just in time to see a jet of green shooting towards her face. She froze, mostly from the absurdity of it all, and gasped as she felt strong arms encircle her body and take her to the ground, shielding her from the assault, covering her body with his own.

It was so surreal that she didn't react for a moment, still in shock as she glimpsed the woman in black (and she was _pretty sure_ she had a concussion because it was THE FUCKING Wicked Witch of the the West, green skin and all) disappear in an emerald plume of smoke. She gasped for air as the Sheriff pulled her upright, checking her over as he would a child knocked from their bike.

"Are you alright, did she clip you..." She knew it should've probably made her feel awkward and intruded upon, the way his hands patted her down with such urgency. It should've felt unfamiliar, to have this _stranger_ so viscerally concerned with her well being, but it didn't. That chilled her too.

She shook her head to let him know she was okay, as well to clear her foggy mind, and caught a flash of red on his sleeve. "Looks like she may have gotten you though." She reached for it, but he shrugged, and hurried to cover up his shaky demeanor with a boyish grin.

"Nah, it's just a graze."

Her head swam at his words, and she swayed on her knees before he stilled her with his hands on her shoulders. "We need to get your head looked at. I don't like that look."

"I'm _fine_." She ground out, but still let him pull her to her feet. He seemed to take it as some sort of encouragement, because he used the opportunity to wrap a free arm around her in an attempt to help her walk. Because her leg hurt where she twisted it as she hit the ground, she let him. The way she even leaned more into him for support assuaged his nerves and made him wistfully hopeful. What happened next was a true subconscious act, an upend of the entire apple cart, as he pressed a quick, soft kiss to the side of her head without a further thought.

* * *

Granny's had been recreated to almost an identical likeness as before, which Neal was thankful for. He had spent the morning with Henry out by the bay, where Henry's castle once stood tall and isolated, sitting on a bench as he caught his son up on things he had said before. Henry was a bit more less open to him this time around; Emma had been a bit more forthcoming with their past, and so it was understandable that Henry was a bit more reluctant to open up to his father.

"You think the Hook man was telling the truth though too, right? Everyone here seems to be a little off." Henry sighed, shaking his head as he tried to work through things. "But you're not a fairytale character."

Neal had chuckled at that. "Let's leave some things for down the road, hm?"

Henry's eyes seemed to twinkle back at him.

The dine was relatively empty, though Red was working the counter and Jiminy sat with the Hatter and Grace, who didn't stop staring at Henry the whole time. He noticed his son shifting, eyes wandering around at the other occupants, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. He was suggesting the burger platter when it happened, like a lightening strike from an oncoming storm.

The ripple of energy swept over the diner at a jarring speed, sending hair and napkins fluttering around the tables. Most were merely refreshed by the jolt, but Henry's head snapped back and forward, and he stared down at the cheap tabletop, gasping for breath. Neal's heart froze in his chest.

"Henry? Henry, are you alright?"

The boy didn't answer right away, but when he looked up, his eyes were darting all around the diner before his gaze landed back on his father in front of him. He shot up and out of his seat, flinging himself at the man with the hint of a sob.

"Dad!"

* * *

Emma let David dab at her forehead, holding back a hiss of pain as the taped down the gauze over the abrasion which would surely lead to a bruise later. He gave her a small ice pack, guiding her hand to her temple. As he sat back against his own desk, his entire body seemed to deflate, the urgency gone as he enjoyed being in her presence. She leaned her elbow on the desk, looking up at him through her lashes.

"You found me." Her voice was embarrassingly unsteady, almost a whisper, but a smile was on her lips.

He laughed with her, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm thinking of getting those words embroidered on our family crest at this point."

She kept smiling even though she rolled her eyes. "Do we actually have a family crest?"

"We should." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm sorry that we had to come get you."

"I know you wouldn't have, if you'd had any other choice." She swallowed hard, looking down at the ground. "Where's Snow?"

David sobered then. "You know how we told you she and Regina had been taken? It's a bit more complicated than that...and our green friend from the Wharf has something to do with it. It seems she and Regina had a bit of a rivalry back in the forest. Snow went with her...because she's incredibly stubborn, and didn't want her to be alone." His expression softened a bit, and he looked down. "They've grown closer over the last year without you two. It's almost sweet."

"Almost?" She squinted, questioning him. He flushed, ducking his head.

"I don't know if I'll quite ever completely trust her, Em."

Her immediate reaction was to chastise and attempt to reason with him. But maybe it was because she didn't know if it was that she was just realizing how much she was missing something she didn't even know about, or because she was really tired, she instead placed her free hand over his and sighed. "I guess that's fair."

The sound of the heavy front doors being thrown open made them turn, and David's pistol was in his hand before Emma had a chance to blink. He placed himself in front of her, raising the firearm and pointing it at the entryway. The bullet wouldn't kill the witch, but it would/ slow her down enough to get Emma to safety and rally the troops before she had a chance to double back.

Henry and his father slid around the corner. When Neal saw David ready to shoot, he crouched over Henry with a yell, shielding him in case his grandfather's reflexes were more jumpy than usual. David faltered, straightening from his crouch and letting his arm go slack. It was a good thing, considering Henry dodged around Neal and threw himself at his grandfather with a jovial "POPS!", expelling the air from the Sheriff's lungs with a delighted half laugh, half huff.

Neal rushed over to Emma, crouching next to her to inspect the flowering bruise near her temple. "Em?"

"Wicked Witch. It's nice to see that the more things change..." She half smiled. "It's good to see you Neal."

"And what about me?"

They had forgotten him in all the excitement, the Captain around the corner in the back of the station, in another room away from everyone. He had bid his time, not wanting to interrupt the reunion of father and daughter, but now that there were more present, now that Emma was back...

She laughed, rolling her eyes, very aware of the others curious gazes on her. "You, I will deal with later, that I promise."

"I am both incredibly thrilled, and terrified."

"You probably should be, taking my son on your ship." She turned back to her son then, shelving the pirate back in her mind for later. "Henry, I am so sorry."

And because he was Henry, because of his wonderful heart and his unfettered optimism, he just grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. You stayed, didn't you?"

That she did. She looked back up at her father suddenly, remember the initial confrontation in front of Granny's in the middle of main.

"You said...one."

"What?" He asked, genuinely not following her thought process. They all stared at her as she blinked a few times like a computer buffering a connection, waiting for her to elaborate.

"You said 'one of them'. When I asked you earlier, about children." Her expression slowly changed to shock and confusion, to awe, to joy and then panic. "Which means there is more than one."

His smile was sad. "His name is Leo, after your grandfather. He is 6 months old." He swallowed hard, looking down. "He came early too."

"Where is he? Is he with Snow? Is he alright? Did that wicked..."

"He's fine, Emma. He's okay. He's with Ella and some others, who are at our farm on the outskirts of town. Blue has shielded it for us against the witch."

She stared ahead, still visibly stunned by the whole thing. "She took her away from him."

Not from Charming. Not even from her, or the rest of the town. But from Leo.

Well, that was just not going to serve. She wasn't going to let that happen again. Not if she was here now, not if there was anything she could do to stop it. She looked at Henry, who looked bereft, and she knew he was thinking of Regina as well. Her expression hardened, and she looked up at her father who could see her chest heave with new breath. He nodded, a soft, proud smile flourishing on his lips as he took in her determination, knowing now that she was home for real; knowing that they were going to bring her mother home. Knowing that they would did this, and more after, the way they should always aspire to do things.

And that was together.

* * *

that fluff at the end...i can't help the teeth rotting goodness, i apologize.

also I try and pimp out stories occasionally if I really, REALLY like them and Dew Poem has a great AU with Emma as the main character called "Another Life". There are OCs, but well written ones. very enjoyable. so go :)


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